


Dangerous Intentions

by CastConfringo



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Age Difference, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 06:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastConfringo/pseuds/CastConfringo





	Dangerous Intentions

       18-year-old Armani leans back in her bed, the pillows sinking under her head. She's exhausted from today's physical training, and she's ready to fall asleep. It takes the rest of her energy to pull the blankets up over her and she falls asleep almost as soon as she lets go of them.

        _She opens her eyes and she's somewhere else entirely. The area around her is desolate, nothing like the bustling streets of New York City she had just walked. In the distance, she sees smoke rising from a squat building. She decides to investigate. The debris scattered around crunches under her feet as she makes her way around the large pieces to get to the building that she now realizes is a small cottage._

_It takes her what feels like an eternity to finally reach it. When she gets there she sees the door is open slightly. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end as she nudges the door open further with her toe. Inside, the only light is coming from the fireplace where a cheery fire burns, contrasting drastically from the rest of the one-room cottage. All of the blinds are drawn, cutting out all of the sunlight from outside. In front of the fire sits an old man with his back to her._

_"Sit," he instructs her, though she hadn't made any noise to alert him of her presence. She carefully skirts around his rocking chair and sits on the edge of the kitchen chair opposite him. "You're much smaller than anticipated, I must say."_

_"Who are you?" She asks, ignoring his statement. His face gives her a feeling of deja vu, like she's seen him somewhere before. He takes a drag from his pipe thoughtfully as he stares her down with cold, dead eyes. She shivers involuntarily, completely unable to get a read of the man. It scares her - with her abilities, she's always able to read a person's energy. How could this man not have any energy?_

_"You know who I am, Armani, just as I know who you are. I know you aren't one of the original seven, but I know you're much more powerful than any of them. It's fascinating, really, considering you aren't even of the forty-three born that day. It took me twelve years to discover how you got your abilities." He speaks around the pipe, smoke billowing from his lips. "Tell me, how are my children?" Finally, she can put a name to the face. It's Sir Reginald Hargreeves, the adoptive father of the seven people she's become friends with in the past four years._

_"They're fine," she says, too stunned to lie. A sudden protective sort of anger rushes over her and she narrows her eyes at him. "No thanks to you." Hargreeves chuckles darkly, scaring her half out of her wits. From what she's heard, he was not a man who laughed often, if at all._

_"No thanks to me?" He repeats, malicious humor sparkling in his eyes. "Oh, dear child, you have much to learn. Don't you know what I've done for them?"  She barks out a bitter laugh._

_"I know just what you've done for them - torn them apart and broken them beyond repair. Though I must say, it is rather interesting how you've somehow managed to come to me in my dream. How do you know who I am?"  They stare at each other, neither one backing down until he sighs, leaning back._

_"You're much smarter than anticipated as well, I see. That's good - I can use that. Now, tell me, how are your offensive abilities coming along?" He adjusts his monocle as he speaks, the glass reflecting the firelight._

_"I don't have any," she answers, confused. "If you know me so well you would know that."_

_"There's not much time left tonight," he responds. "I'll be back tomorrow. Wake up! Wake up, girl!"_

She bolts upright in bed, sweat making her shirt stick to her back. The setting sun casts long shadows across the floor of her room as she comes back to reality. Movement outside her window catches her eye, and she turns to see one of the Hargreeves children, Diego, sneaking onto her fire escape and tapping on the window. She rushes to close her bedroom door then opens the window to let him in. He climbs through, taking a seat in her desk chair. She sits back down on her bed and they look at each other.

       "What's bothering you, Mani?" he asks finally, noticing how upset she looks. She tears her gaze away and looks down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. It's easy to see something's upsetting her, and he wants to help.

       "I had a dream," she confesses, knowing he won't understand. "Your father was there. He... told me some pretty weird things." She tells him about the dream and he listens intently. By the time she finishes, he's absolutely fuming with anger.

       "That bastard!" He rants, kicking the leg of her desk. "He never should have said that to you. You aren't a fighter, you're... you're..." he gestures with his hands, struggling to come up with a word to describe her.

       "I'm me?" She offers, and he points at her. He doesn't pick up on the bitter undertone and he smiles.

       "Exactly. You're you! You don't have any offensive abilities." She shakes her head, staring at the floor. The last thing she needed was to be reminded she was helpless when it came to fighting.

       "I've been working on my physical attacks," she tells him, rubbing her hands over her arms repeatedly like she's cold. "But that's not what he meant by offensive abilities. He meant, like, my energy reading. I don't even know if I can do anything offensive with that." He stands and crosses the floor, taking a seat next to her on the bed. I lean closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

       "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he tells her, and she nods slowly.

       "I know," she whispers. A tear rolls down her cheek and lands on his shoulder. He notices and lifts her face to look at him. They gaze at each other, both of them knowing they shouldn't be feeling the way they are but neither of them care enough to try and ignore their emotions. Slowly, he leans down and kisses her. The tension between them had been building for over a year, and it was obvious to everyone but them.

       "I'm sorry," he murmurs, pulling away. "I shouldn't have done that." She shakes her head, both of them still too close to be appropriate. 

       "You shouldn't have," she agrees, but this time she kisses him. He doesn't protest as she pushes him back onto the mattress, or when she starts to tug off his shirt. Instead he helps her pull it the rest of the way off, helps her pull her own off. What they're doing is so very wrong, but they don't care in the slightest.


End file.
